


Chaos Insurrection

by infiniteOddity



Series: We Were Once so Young [1]
Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF, Sideshow - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - Grand Theft Auto Setting, Gen, Lots of just rambling dialogue, some truly awful attempts at jokes, this is sorta part of the same timeline as essential surgery???
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-04
Updated: 2019-03-04
Packaged: 2019-11-09 05:10:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,556
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17995484
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/infiniteOddity/pseuds/infiniteOddity
Summary: Criken told Lawl to gather his team and show the Fakes that Sideshow shouldn't be messed with. So that's what he did. Criken never said he couldn't have fun doing it.





	Chaos Insurrection

**Author's Note:**

> This is the result of A) watching too many of Lawl's Apex Legends streams B) me being sick for almost a week and C) being unable to get the image of shots being fired while Immigrant song plays in the background out of my head.
> 
> Link to playlist based on this work
> 
> https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5oqrd42ytSnkumbz8U74V0

“Lawl, gather your team and get out there and cause a little trouble. If the Fakes think they can outplay us, then we need to show them otherwise.”

That was hours ago, but Criken's words are still ringing in his head. They're camped out on a roof downtown, Sput and Gmart swigging beers as they take turns pointing out interesting people on the street. Across from everyone, Cheeky is leaning against the barrier closest to the alley below them, his gun already set up and within arm’s reach. He’s sat with his eyes closed and his head tilted back. To anyone else, it would look like he was simply basking in the warmth of the clear Los Santos skies, but Lawl knows better than that. He’s waiting. Listening for the slightest indication of their targets’ arrival.

“Yo, Lawl, you sure your intel was good? We're not getting faked by the Fakes, right?” Gmart asks as he shifts in his spot restlessly.

“I'm sure, dude. It came from my usual source and they haven't done me dirty yet.”

“It just feels like we've been waiting here forever.”

“Dude, the drop isn't supposed to happen until 4:50 and it's only…” Lawl makes a big show of checking his watch and then pulling out his phone to make double sure. “4:39. We got here early to scope the place out and set up, remember?”

“Yeah. Yeah. Aren’t these guys supposed to be pros, though? Don't people like that usually show up like freaky early to these things?”

“How the fuck am I supposed to know, Gmart? Do I look like a professional anything to you?”

“Yeah, Lawl, you're the professional funnyman,” Sput chimes in, elbowing Gmart with a laugh.

“Go ahead, laugh it up you two.” Lawl rolls his eyes, looking his gun over. “To answer your question, it's a Family deal. The Fakes have too much product, so they're meeting up with Sugar Pine to unload it. Not too much to worry about on either of their sides, so no one’s being super cautious.”

“Oh. Now I see why Crik didn’t let you bring Bed on this one.” Gmart nods as he finishes the dregs of his last beer.

“Yeah. I don’t even want to know what his deal with Suptic is, dude. It’s all good, though. I for one am having a great time getting to do a job with my boys for the first time in forever.” Lawl looks them over and Cheeky even gives him a thumbs up from his spot.

“I think I’m Char’s boy more than yours. Sorry, Lawl.” Sput says with a shrug. “Plus, I know I’m only here because you needed Percussion to be the getaway driver.”

“Aw, come on, Sput. You’re my boy...at least a little bit. We’ve been on too many missions together for you to not be at least kind of my boy.”

“Yeah, brother. Chaos Squad or bust.” Gmart pulls Sput into a headlock then shoves another beer into his hands, cracking open his own afterward.

“Keep telling yourself that.”

Suddenly Cheeky’s whole demeanor changes. He’s shifting so he can kneel behind the wall blocking off the edge of the roof, peering through his scope into the alley below. “Incoming. Two cars. One is definitely the Fakes.”

Gmart sighs and chugs his new beer, sending the can skittering across the roof once it’s empty. “Guess it’s time for us to lock and load, brothers.”

“I hear ya, brother. Let’s ready up.” Lawl gives him a nod and sidles up to Cheeky, kneeling a bit away and looking through his own scope. “That’s definitely them. I’d recognize that black and green anywhere...and there’s Suptic’s stupid pink hat. Party’s here, brothers. Now we just gotta wait.”

Lawl pulls the red bandana around his neck up to cover the lower half of his face, the other three following suit. His fingers twitch as he watches the rival gangs pile into the alley. He knows what their orders are, but he can feel his heart start to pound like crazy and the adrenaline beginning to pump through his veins. “Whenever you’re clear, Cheeky, take your shot,” he says as he watches the gangs start to chat, greeting each other more like long lost family than criminals who work together.

Lawl’s counting the seconds as he watches the younger members start to rough house. Geoff gets shoved and Lawl holds his breath as he’s put right in Cheeky’s line of sight. There’s the tell-tale “fwip” of his gun going off, then Geoff’s stumbling back in shock, clutching at his chest. “What the fuck?! I’ve been shot!”

“What?! Geoff!”

The four on the roof duck down so they won't be spotted, listening intently for their next cue.

“Wait. Hold on.” They hear the leader of the Fakes say. “It’s paint. It's fucking red paint.”

“What, like a paintball? Where the hell did that come from?”

“Now's our time to shine, brothers,” Lawl says as he presses play on his phone, the speaker next to him blaring out a loud guitar solo as he takes aim at the six gang members below them.

_AHHHHahhhh Ahhhhhh_

_AHHHHahhhh Ahhhhhh_

Each landed shot splatters them with bright red paint, even more being added to the chaos as Cheeky, Sput, and Gmart finally poke their heads over the barrier and join the fray. They have a bit of an unfair advantage, but they had it planned this way for a reason. They’re only here to prove a point and they need any leg up they can get on RT.

_We come from the land of the ice and snow_

Gmart’s cackling in his ear and Lawl can’t help but laugh, too. He can see three perfect chest shots land and he knows that it’s Cheeky’s doing. That man is a menace with a sniper and it’s incredible to see how that translates to something like a paintball gun. Lawl stops for a minute to just watch his friends. Cheeky’s lost in his own world, mouthing along to the music blaring around them. On his other side, Sput and Gmart are in some kind of competition, constantly elbowing each other so that their shots go wide, splattering against a dumpster or a wall more often than any of the scrambling people below.

They aren’t meant to be here for long, so there’s no backup ammo. They fire until their mags are empty, the RT members recovering enough by that point to duck behind their cars safely out of the way. Lawl can see that they're a mess of red, though, along with their vehicles and the alley itself. It's when Cheeky spots them pulling out actual weapons that he gives the signal. “It’s time to get out of here, boys.”

“Catch you on the flipside, fuckers,” Gmart takes the time to yell down, flipping them off. He ducks down with the rest of them, but not before a shot catches him in the shoulder. “Fuck! Those motherfuckers.”

“Yeah. We need to get the fuck out of here.” Sput’s pulling him towards their stuff as fast as he can.

They all shoulder their paintball guns as they book it to the edge of the roof. Sput grabs the backpack full of their beers as Cheeky pulls out his combat pistol to cover them as needed. Lawl leaves the speaker blaring, a little calling card tucked under it for the Fakes to find if they're smart enough.

The four of them leap off of the roof together, clearing the small distance between their building and the one next to it easily. Their equipment makes the landing rougher than any of them would like, but besides a few signs of discomfort, and Gmart clutching his shoulder, they're not any worse off.

Gmart had plotted out the route for them earlier, guiding Lawl through the leaps and dives before they settled in to wait for the deal. Now that he's wounded, Lawl takes point, making sure the rest are staying close and that the Fakes aren't on their tail. The Fakes might think that they run this town, that they know every street and alleyway, but they don’t know the rooftops the way Gmart does, relying too heavily on their cars and ‘copters to get around. Even Lawl is only half sure of where he’s going and Gmart has to catch him a few times, wheezing out that he’s leading them to a dead end.

Once they’re deep enough in the heart of the city, perched on top of what smells like a Thai take out place, Lawl motions for them to stop. “They’re not going to find us here. Let’s get Gmart at least wrapped up before we get to where Percussion’s parked. Don’t want you bleeding out on us, bud.”

“Aw, how considerate of you, Lawlman.”

“I try my best, buddy. Hey, Sput, you know any first aid?”

“Pft. No.”

 

“Really? You spend all that time with Char and you haven’t picked up anything?”

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but he’s patching me up most of the time and any time he’s doing that, I’m drunk off my ass, because fuck needles.”

“Alright. Fair enough.”

“I really do have to do everything.” Cheeky grumbles and pushes past both of them to get to Gmart. He has Gmart sit down and turns back to Lawl and Sput. “Keep an eye out at least while I fix him up.”

“Will do.”

Cheeky kneels down next to Gmart and examines the bullet wound. “Can’t keep yourself out of danger, huh? Even when what we’re doing isn’t supposed to be dangerous.”

“Eh. You know me. Where’s the fun in that, right? Gotta keep you on your toes somehow.”

“Yeah. Sure. I’m not the one adding a new scar to my collection.”

“Hey, I’ve heard that they make me look quite badass.”

“Nah, they just say, “I’m the dumbass who can’t keep out of the line of fire.” Which is accurate.” Cheeky shakes his head as he gets Gmart’s shirt off of him, pulling a knife out of his pocket to cut it into long strips. Gmart tries to protest, but a tired look is all it takes to shut him up. He ends up just grumbling as the remains of his shirt are used to wrap his shoulder and stop the bleeding. After a few long minutes of working in silence, Cheeky ties off the makeshift bandage and helps Gmart to his feet. “Now try to keep out of trouble until we can get you to Charborg.”

“Uh huh. Sure.”

Cheeky ignores him, instead walking back over to Lawlman. “Let’s get home, yeah?’

“Yeah, brother. Bet your knees hurt from carrying the team like this.”

Cheeky just laughs as Lawl puts them back on the course to where Percussion is parked. At least they won’t have Gmart bleeding everywhere as they go.

It’s almost half an hour later when Lawl finally finds the fire escape leading down to the alley Percussion’s stowed the car in. They climb down the stairs to find said man napping behind the wheel, his seat laid back and a magazine splayed open over his face.

Lawl runs over to the driver’s side, banging on the window as soon as he sees their friend. “Hey, wake up, asshole! We need to get Gmart back to base ASAP. As usual.”

It takes a couple more tries, but Percussion finally sits up and blinks blearily at Lawl as he unlocks the SUV. “Took you guys long enough.”

“There were some complications. A certain someone has another bullet to add to add to his trophy room.”

“Mh. No surprise there. Get in then and call Charborg; make sure he’s ready for you guys.”

“You got it.”

Lawl climbs into the passenger seat while Cheeky and Sput sandwich Gmart between them, getting his gear off of him and dumping it in the back along with their stuff.

All in all, it’s a successful mission and, as they head home, Lawl rolls down his window and cracks the radio singing along to every song he knows as Percussion winds them back through the streets of Los Santos.

~~~~

“What the hell was that?!”

“I’ve got no clue, Suptic. First time anyone’s come after us with fucking paintballs.”  
“I thought we were supposed to be the weird ones around here. Hey, Cib, climb up there and see if you find anything.”

“You really trust him to know clues from trash?”

“Nah, but he’s from Canada so it’s fine if he falls.”

There’s a lot of quiet bitching and useless attempts to wipe away the paint as they wait for Cib to get up to the roof. It’s not hard to tell once he’s up there, because he’s immediately yelling, “Hello, down there, bros.”

“Find anything?!”

“Just a bunch of empty beers and this. Catch, dude!”

Cib sends something small sailing from the roof and they all scramble to try to catch it. It lands in Jeremy’s hands, but the leader of the Fakes is quick to snatch it up.

“What the fuck is this?” Geoff asks as he looks it over. He turns it over in his hands and finds that it’s a speaker with a playing card taped to it. The six of hearts is clear as day on the front, but when he peels it off, there’s a slightly familiar symbol printed on the back. A bunny mask lined in red.

“Those motherfuckers. Kids think they can play with us, huh?”

“What is it Geoff?”

“Those Sideshow pricks,” he says, waving the card around. “They think they’re hot shit. Trying to scare us. Good fucking luck, kiddos.”

~~~~

“So, do you think they got the message?”

“Loud and clear, bossman. The Fakes didn’t see us coming at all. They’ll be on high alert after how much we lit them up, though,” Lawl reports, shifting from foot to foot as he takes in Criken’s expression.

“That’s fine. I don’t plan on escalating unless they retaliate. This was just meant to show them that even if they’re top dogs right now, we’re always watching. I want them to be thinking of the casualties that could come from today if I’d let you use real bullets.”

“I’m sure they’ll definitely be thinking that over. You should have seen the shot Cheeky landed on the boss. It was nasty, Crik.”

“Oh, I’ve seen Cheeky in action. Tell him ‘good work’ from me anyways, though. Also, in the next couple weeks, make sure you and your boys don’t stray too far from base. I want you all nearby in case the Fakes do decide to get their payback. Bed’s an amazing shot, but even he can’t hold them all off alone.”

“You got it, Boss.” Lawl gives a little salute and turns back to the door, ready to book it out of Criken’s office and check up on Gmart. Realistically, he knows that his friend is fine, but each wound he comes back from a mission with makes Lawl feel like he’s a bad leader. Like if he could just keep a tighter leash on his friend, he wouldn’t be making such regular trips to Charborg’s clinic.

Maybe he’s just waiting for the day when Gmart’s luck runs out and even Charborg can’t stitch him back together.


End file.
